


A faux pas in Wroclaw

by xX_wackamole_Xx



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Communication Failure, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25427110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xX_wackamole_Xx/pseuds/xX_wackamole_Xx
Summary: Ela has a week of leave in her hometown. A great time to see the sights, stay with family, and get dicked down. Now if she could only understand why her Tinder date keeps talking about "rainbows"tagged non con because she's had a few beers, but like two hours pass so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Relationships: gustave "doc" kateb/ela bosak
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

October 2017

Elżbieta “Ela” Bosak took a deep breath in, letting the cold air flood her lungs as she stared into the cloudy sky above Wroclaw, Poland. It had been... a while. She curled her toes in her vans, still amused with the comfort of civilian footwear. She had one week of leave to enjoy it. A full twenty-six hours to get out of the shit, taking a zigzag of military transports, before finally putting her uniform in a locker and buying a bus ticket. Her shoes were bought in 2009. Damn. At least they were old enough to be cool again. The smell of the fog and cigarette smoke was absolutely narcotic to her. She saw a grandmother staring at her, and remembered that she was staring at the sky while standing at a bus stop. Ela averted her eyes down and began walking forward. Attention to the road wasn’t necessary, she’d walked it a thousand times before. The brick, cobblestone, and asphalt blended together under her feet, the result of spending a century or two being Europe’s favorite bomb dumping ground. The buildings that passed her showed their various ages too, with butcher’s shops and centuries old churches contrasted to the sleek tech stores and boutiques that popped up. Above roofs built before the protestant reformation, the sleek glass and steel of the Sky Tower rose towards the grey clouds. Wroclaw hadn’t changed, not in any meaningful way. It was still the UNESCO heritage site and WTO development area trying to share the same postage stamp of dirt. It was still home.

Ela swung around a corner by a lamppost, before remembering she was a thirty-one year old woman. She straightened herself, and then resumed a practiced slouch. Just enough to be comfortable, but not enough to make her stand out as slacking when she wore a parade uniform. She hadn’t anticipated, upon joining GROM, how much they’d march. Just another thing to miss about the private sector. They did more actual operating, however, something Ela didn’t miss about being a private contractor. Guarding a checkpoint in Kabul wasn’t a rush, doing intel work in Africa with a US Navy SEAL was. The American she’d worked with had liked her, and told her to join some sort of multinational group. It hadn’t seemed that attractive, despite the SEAL’s insistence. Ela was happy to have GROM be the end of her military career, at least the part of it that wasn’t done at a desk. Again, thirty-one. She couldn’t keep doing field work forever. She knew how that went. Knees explode, lungs give out, vision clouds, judgement slows. Achievements fade, failures mount. Fear an old man in a profession that kills the young, yes, but Ela wanted to do something else. Eventually. The multinational, “Rainbow” would have to wait. Sorry, Valerie. No, fuck, Valerina? Vanessa? Shit. Something like that. Liked cameras a lot. 

Ela turned around the last corner on her path, and stood as still as she had at that bus stop. The sun was setting over Wroclaw, and the orange sky framed the roof of her childhood home. She let the image flood into her, as she had the air. The memories of every inch of the ancient wood and brick house. The bedroom she had shared with Zofia as kids, the bathroom where their mother had washed them, her father’s study, covered in maps, where she first became enamored with the armed services. Those maps, covered in her father’s blood. Ela swallowed. The house held history. A few hundred years of the Bosak family. She walked, more slowly now, up to the door. Before she could even give it a single knock, it flew open, and the smell of her mother’s cooking flowed out, her mom standing before her. There was a moment of hesitation, before Ela was embraced in a bone-crushing hug

“ELANAJDROZSZEMILOSCI-” The Bosak matriarch’s wave of mewling and admonitions rolled over Ela. Ela hugged back, and tried to pick the intelligible parts out of her mom’s blubbering. Something about bottomless love. Something about Pierogi. Something about taking a shower, God, and the European Union. It couldn’t be easy for the woman, having both of her daughters in GROM. Ela was good at what she did- really good. In her line of work, she wouldn’t have made it to her thirty-first birthday if she wasn’t. But even if she would probably make it to a desk job alive, she saw her ma for only a few weeks a year. Add that to Zofia’s seeming inability to get leave at the same time as Ela, and the elder Bosak hadn’t had a dinner with her whole family since 2013. 

Ela felt the pressure around her ribs wane a bit as her ma started to trail off on her doting rant. The operator looked down at the shorter woman. She was still young. Fifty and some change. Ela wasn’t sure, she hadn’t been in proper contact for a while. Her mom looked up at her like she was expecting Ela to have something to say.

“Love you mama” Ela muttered.

  
  
  


Ela washed her plate and stashed it in the drying rack beside the sink. She went upstairs to her bedroom, and snatched her phone off the charger. One week. Time to get laid. She downloaded Tinder and threw together a profile. Shit. Precluding the use of pictures with her face blurred out for security reasons or uniformed headshots, there wasn’t a lot to go on. Aside from older pictures. Much older pictures. She looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad for thirty-one years, but her age- her maturity- was apparent. She wasn’t a mother, unlike Zofia, and her body showed this, but there was nothing adolescent about her. In hindsight, there never had been. Military education had taken that from her early on. When she had tried to seduce boys, back in her teens, she had used an uncanny pantomime of her idea of normal girls. She had better luck in the conservatory, but that was different. She was revered by her peers, and all she had to do was give an approving shrug to get one of the art boys to dick her down for hours off the antidepressants. Contracting, and later, GROM, had been a protracted dry spell. An approving shrug there would be more than enough, but the respect she fought for would shrivel up the second she let one of the soldier boys inside. Aside from one hookup with a Norwegian intelligence analyst while she was guarding an embassy, she had the same sex life as her male peers. That is to say, years of masturbating in 120 degree porta potties. Fahrenheit that is, the Americans who owned the bases would sharpie over the celsius scale. Anyhow, for the most part she lived the same struggle as the men she worked with, and was respected all the more for it. 

Ela looked back at the mirror. Fuck it. It wasn’t catfishing. The southern sun hadn’t been so cruel to her skin. She threw together a quick collage of candid shots. A family vacation, an art expo, a house party, and one declassified picture of her handing out rations in Somalia. Her hair dye never matched the green that she wore tonight, or even the dye color in the other pictures, for that matter. Her bio was just her height and weight. Was that wrong? She had been in Afghanistan back when Tinder was a big deal, and never caught on. The bio worked at saying “I’m here to fuck” without being some thirsty line that Zofia would later send her a screenshot of. She started swiping on the guys, and swiped right on a _lot_ of them. A rookie mistake, but she was a rookie, and if any of these men said “hi” to her in a bar, like she did in her day- fuck, she _was_ a geezer- she’d be willing to let them ply their trade. On her vagina.

They sent their messages, compliments, pick up lines, and innuendos. And she sent her phone number, when they inevitably asked for it. Again, lack of discretion. Ela had never been about discretion. She wanted speed.

A text message notification popped up on the top of her phone. 

“Hi Ela. This is Gustave. Can I meet you tonight?” Did she match with someone named Gustave? Fuck it, probably. Speed, not discretion. She typed fast.

“Yea”. There was a pause, and it showed him typing. Slowly. Not many men named Gustave could type Polish quickly.

“That is excellent. I can’t wait to meet you. See you at Uli’s?” Uli’s was a bar a few blocks from Ela’s home. Convenient, really convenient. 

Ela opened her closet, looking over options. She had a single dress, a little frilly black affair that she had worn to her father’s funeral. Bad memories, yes, but it was revealing, and unlike everything else in her closet, was neither avant garde fashion, nor property of the Polish government. Black stockings? She didn’t want to look like a streetwalker, but her aspirations were..similar. She didn’t have heels, so she dug out her freshest pair of Converse and hoped for the best. 

She laid the outfit on the bed, and darted downstairs to the shower. Not much time. The water came out freezing, and Ela shivered under the droplets, naked, freezing, and making a mental note to send her mom some money for a new heater. Goosebumps covered her skin as she slid a bar of soap over it. She covered her arms, scrubbed down her legs, and worked up a lather before going between them. Her slick hand glided over her pussy and into the crease between her thigh and groin. Expedient, not playful. She reached behind her back and soaped up her ass, sliding her fingers between the globes. She felt her asshole, puckered under the cold water, and lightly massaged some soap into the skin. She had tried anal with one of the boyfreinds of yesteryear, but he hadn’t made it very deep. A finger, however? That she could handle. Feeling the thin wall between her pussy and ass being kneaded by a warm cock and a curious finger at the same time? Heaven. 

Feeling clean, she shut off the water, toweled off as fast as possible, and grabbed a pair of scissors. Didn’t hand to be a mess down there, but didn’t want razor burn either. Besides, he was named “Gustave”. The French like a little bush.

Thoughts- fantasies, really- accompanied Ela to the store on the corner. She had to calm her nerves real quick. She pitched her Afghani companion- a Juul with duct tape over the light- into an open trash can, and swung open the door. She greeted the shopkeep, the father of one of her exes, actually, and asked for a pack of Newport Menthols. After handing over three and a half euros- highway fucking robbery by the way- she left the shop, and chuffed a ‘port as she speedwalked to Uli’s. Standing on the stoop, she ripped her dart one last time while looking in through the windows, wondering which one of the men was Gustave. She reached for the doorknob.

  
  


The tourist- her date- waved from a corner of the bar. He was older, early forties maybe. He had a few specks of white in his hair, and black stubble. Blue shirt, black slacks. Ela, trying to remember her younger days, walked across the ancient hardwood floor, trying to sway her hips, slide her coat off, and forget the ridiculousness of trying to carry her body- a war machine- sexily. She must have looked almost seasick, teetering on a line between a practiced, androgynous march, and a caricature of the feminine wiles she had left behind for the guts and glory of her twenties. She tossed her coat on an empty seat, onto a small puddle of what she hoped was beer. She checked her own seat, before sitting down.

“Hey Ela” he said, almost tripping over a word as easy as ‘czesc’ 

“Hi, Gustave,” Ela said with a smile, before switching to french. “I appreciate the effort, Frenchman”

“And here I was, thinking I’d have to plug everything in to Google translate” Gustave said in his native tongue. Ela chuckled, then broke out into a laugh. The Parisian laughed with her. It was a common sight in both of their cities to see Americans typing things into their phones, before uttering grammatical trainwrecks. 

“Got to say, you didn’t pick a great place, Gus. This is like, Wroclaw’s best-known shithole” Gustave chuckled at that one. “No seriously, I beat the piss out of Filip once right over there” Ela gestured. Gustave looked over to the spot. 

“Well, the fighting’s something we like about you” Gustave said, toasting with his beer. Ela took a second. Her french wasn’t great. _Was that a “I” or a “we”? Maybe a royal “we”? Don’t worry about it Ela. Don’t worry. Get that dick_ . Ela looked up from the table and toasted along with the sentiment. em> _Here’s to being a fighter._

“So, uh, Gustave, what do you do?” Gustave seemed taken aback. Weird. Maybe Ela really had gotten that bad at basic conversation. Maybe she was taken aback by his body. It wasn’t anything record-setting, but it was impressive for his age, and it was weirdly...familiar.

“I’m their doctor” he said. _‘Their’? Fuck, it’s probably just a turn of phrase. Should have paid more attention to Madame Riener._ “I’m really interested in you”

“Oh that’s uh…good to hear” Ela cheerily said. She leaned forward and tried to emphasise her cleavage “what interests you so much?”

“Well the whole military thing”

“That- most guys are turned away by that”

“Well I think your military career is very impressive”. _Impressive._ Ela thought. _He doesn’t know the half of it._ “I’m also intrigued by the whole ‘artist’ thing. Could you speak on that?”. Ela’s smile grew broader.

“We’re going to need a few more beers to talk about that over”

“Well, work hard play hard”. Another toast. Another beer. They started to talk about the art, the conservatory, and Ela began to immerse Gustave in the history, geopolitics, and vast vocabulary needed to begin to understand the Polish abstract art scene. 

As the conversion about her brief art career winded down, a waitress offered to carry away Ela’s empty pint glasses, of which there were four. Fuck. Maybe she had been too nostalgic for the dog piss they served at Uli’s. It _was_ dog piss though, so... three percent? Four? _Three percent multiplied by four minus two cause I’m Polish multiplied...Shit_ . She couldn’t do this sober, let alone while maintaining a conversation- in fucking French of all things- with Gustave. Speaking of which, he was saying something about...rainbows? He had mentioned he was a doctor- that’s hot. He did Doctors Without Borders. That’s _Hot._ If he wanted to play doctor, slap on a latex glove and reenact the time Zofia signed Ela up for a rectal cancer exam at a military hospital, he could go right ahead. Hell, if he wanted to slap on some latex somewhere else...

“Ela?” Gustave asked “you still with me? You should probably stop drinking, now that we’re into the serious-” Ela bit her lip. Fuck it. Weren’t these Tinder dates supposed to go fast? She placed her hand on top of Gustave’s, trying to avoid slamming it down.

“Oh yeah let’s get serious”

“Ela?” he said

“The hospital put you up in a hotel, right? Take me there-”

“It’s an international-”

“-and fuck my brains out” Ela whispered. There was a pause. Some talking in the back of the bar. A distant clink of glasses. Time to give up. Another guy, another date...Something about this one though, it just seemed like a good time to go all out.

“Miss. Bosak.” How did he know her last name? Did those rat bastards at Uli’s card her? “It would be unprofessional to even acknowledge my appreciation of the offer, let alone-”

“I want you to bend me over a coffee table-”

“Miss. Bosak.”

“Make my pussy-”

“You’re too drunk”

“Sober enough to drive”

“My friend, be reasonable-”

“-you to orgasm” Gustave sighed.

“That’s an idiom. It doesn’t translate to-”

“Can you translate your cock into my guts?” Gustave sighed again, stood up and grabbed his coat. 

“I’ll meet you tomorrow”

“But I want to fuck you tonight”

“That’s too bad” Gustave turned toward the door. Ela followed. Gustave cursed himself for having a drink. He drove himself here, and wouldn’t allow himself to drive for another four hours. Principles maketh man. It would be a looooooong hour of walking. 

“You can zip-tie me to the radiator” Ela sang, trying her best to walk suggestively. She was running out of her short supply of dirty French phrases, and had started improvising. She was later told the highlights were “I would like to be your cum sinkhole”, “start a house fire in my organs”, “fire your seed in my nursery” and “I want to lick your very hot (the temperature, not the expression) balls”. As they approached the hotel, Ela had given up on French, and switched back to Polish, drawing concerned expressions from passers-by. 

The hotel let them both in, and Ela stood next to Gustave in the elevator. She opened her mouth again. Gustave cut her off. 

“For the last time. Miss. Bosak.”

“Last time huh?” They stood still, staring at the doors of the elevator. Ela looked to Gustave, then back to the doors. “I guess you’ll have to just call me ‘slut’ for the rest of the night” Silence returned to the elevator, followed by a ping. The doors rolled open, and Gustave crossed the hall to his room. He turned to Ela.

“Good night” He opened the door, and began to swing it closed behind him

“It’s cause you’re gay, isn’t it?” Gustave sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time of the night. He had this dyed-hair polak slut with a fat ass begging for him. Pleading. Principles. Principles.

“Please don’t resort to childish insults, Ela”

“Gay gay gayboy” Ela said

“Please” Gustave asked. Ela looked him dead in the eye, pulled down a shoulder of her dress, and squeezed a naked tit. Looking down at it, she let a drop of drool fall down, rolling over her smooth flesh and rubbing the spit around the nipple. Principles. Principles. Prin-

“Get inside” Gustave said. Ela practically skipped over to the bed, tossed Gustave’s open, neatly-organized suitcase off the edge, and flopped over on her back.

“Fuck me hard, Gustave”

“Most of the needy bitches I know call me ‘Doc’” the GIGN operator, Gustave Kateb, said, locking the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fuggn

Doc turned around. Ela’s left shoulder strap still dangled to the side. She was reclined on her elbows, knees bent, legs open and displaying her panties. Black. Go figure. Doc stood at the foot of the bed and started to unbutton his shirt, slowly letting it fall away from his chest. He wasn’t a tall man, only five centimeters taller than Ela, and he didn’t seem much heavier, but he carried his weight differently. His fat was thinly spread over his body, with a good deal of it sweated off whenever he did an operation in the thick armor Rook provided him. His muscle wasn’t picturesque, worked and bulged according to aesthetic guidelines, but rather trained to ever-rising standards. The physical conditioning of the GIGN had kept Doc fit well past his “athletic peak”, and the rise of ISIS had pushed the aging man to the edge of his willpower, refusing to wash out of physical re-qualification, year after year. Ela rolled on to her hands and knees, and crawled across the bed toward Doc. She could see his willpower in the taught, slow-twitch, endurance musculature as the soft blue fabric rolled off his strong shoulders and hit the floor. Despite being a doctor, this man had a soldier’s body. The kind she had seen all around her, showering and dressing and bathing and shaving and pissing on the side of the road. The kind hung tantalizingly close to her, the kind she would stare at, watching them sweat through their tank tops in an armored truck. The kind that made her grind her pussy against the seat as it rumbled in time with the heavy diesel engine. Her lips met his coffee-colored abs. She sucked soft skin over hard muscle, and let her tongue roll out to taste it. The kind of body she could never touch, never kiss, never  _ have.  _ All to be respected. She kissed up to his pectorals, and swung an arm up behind him to touch his back. She wanted to feel every ridge and bone and pump of blood under his skin. Back in Afghanistan, guys would wrestle naked and swordfight with their cocks, as Ela secluded herself, alone. Imagining what it would be like to be one of the guys. To get pinned. To feel the erect warmth press against her stomach as her shoulders were pressed into the dirt. She kissed down to Doc’s belt, and looked up, eyes pleading. She had never wanted to swallow a load as badly as she did now. Well, not exactly. She remembered hearing about a British Grenadiers unit that played soggy biscuit in the barracks. She had imagined herself, jilling off in a room packed full of those soldier’s bodies, each of them racing to the finish. Hands stroking engorged cocks, eyes on her. Shouting, as she accepted defeat and closed her mouth around a dripping cookie. It wasn’t the taste of cum, but just the act of eating it. The complete submission. 

“Ask nicely” Doc said

“Please sir, may I?” Ela said, her lost schoolgirl’s wiles rushing back to her

“‘May I’ what?” Doc insisted. “‘Doctor,’” he added.

“May I suck your cock, please doctor” Ela begged. She had been begging all night. She had been denied for years. Why not show off a little?

She bit the leather of the tail of the belt, pulling it from his belt loops. She bit again, next to the belt buckle, centimeters from his crotch. The prong slid from it’s hole, and Ela moved it aside with her tongue. She slid her face across his lap, wedging her nose between the buckle and Doc’s pants, and forcing it all the way off the tail of the belt. Only a zipper and- yes!- a snap remained. The hard part was over. She bit the hole in the zipper’s tab between her canines, and pulled it down. She bit straight down on the snap and pulled back, making it pop free. Doc’s slacks slid halfway down his thighs, leaving just a pair of navy blue boxers. They covered an impressive bulge. A good, solid length was tucked to the left. Ela dragged her nose from the balls up to the tip. She could smell him through the detergent scent of the thin cotton. A man of good hygiene, absolutely. Clean, nearly odorless, but with the musk of a fresh sweat lying, almost undetectable. She bit the right side of his waistband, avoiding the trail of chest hair which disappeared under the black elastic. Pulling downward, centimeter after centimeter of Doc’s veiny member greeted her. Nearly uniform, except for a slight upward curve. The band slipped under his head, and his meat slapped her in the side of her face. She stared up into his approving, patient eyes. She kissed his inner thigh, tasting that fresh, salty sweat, before moving up and rolling one of his balls on her tongue, getting a much stronger taste. His member lay warm across her face, and however well Doc’s eyes hid his anticipation, his cock betrayed it with every quick heartbeat. She began to kiss and lick her way up his shaft, moving as slowly as she could bear, and with every beat he grew harder. His foreskin retracted slightly with every beat, and revealed a shiny head, the same shade of brown as the rest of Doc, with a slightly darker rim. She kissed the shaft one last time, then licked around the rim of the head, outside the foreskin. She remembered her conversations with the SEAL, back in Sudan. Ela had asked about the circumcisions of the Americans, mostly jokingly, and the SEAL had replied with a long-winded rant about “penile aesthetics”, “penis ego”, and ease of blowjobs. Ela would have to try one someday. For tonight it was the Eurozone classic. She kissed the tip, cast a glance towards his eyes, and wrapped her soft lips around his hard cock. She’d been sucking dicks for a decade and a half now, and showed it. She hummed on his shaft, sending vibrations along his length. Her tongue swirled around Doc’s cockhead while she bobbed up and down on him, her short hair swinging back and forth as she picked up the pace. Doc ran a hand down her back, then into her hair. He stroked over it, watching the green stands float through his fingers as Ela sent shots of warmth up his body through his cock. He moved his hand down on to her scalp, stroking the back of her head lightly, before grabbing a handful of her hair tightly.

“You talked a lot of shit for someone who just wanted to play with it” Doc growled. He forced her head down to the base of his cock, pushing deep into her throat. Tears rolled down Ela’s face, smearing her eyeliner. She wasn’t crying though. She felt like a little girl on christmas day. Doc made swift, shallow thrusts into her throat, before letting her up for air. Drool dripped from the cock in front of Ela. She stared at the length, before Doc pushed her head back down on to it. He thrusted again, her throat tight around his tip. Ela moaned on his cock, a deep, satisfied release. He let her off, and she looked up again. His brow was furrowed, his eyes hungry.

He slipped two fingers under her choker and roughly dragged her to her knees, eye level with him. He hesitated a moment, then grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss. The taste of his cock and the taste of his mouth combined in Ela’s, his tongue forcing hers aside. Beer, cock and Newport Menthols. Not the first choice in Lunchables flavors, but intoxicating nonetheless. Doc reached down and cupped her puffy vulva with his hand, her soaked panties resting in his palm. Sliding them aside, he easily slid two fingers inside her and pulled towards himself, stroking the roof of her pussy, before retracting them sharply. She gasped, and opened her eyes to see Doc sucking one of the fingers before pushing the other, slick finger past her lips. She tasted herself. Salty, almost pricky. He kissed her again, and again, she tasted sex and drugs. He threw her on her back, stepped out of his pants, and crawled on to the bed, hovering above her. He slid his fingers back inside and whispered in Ela’s ear.

“I have your pulse and pupillary dilation. I’m only going to ask you this once. Are you on the pill?” Ela mustered what she had been taught in resisting lie detectors, and said

“Yes.” Doc smiled.

“They taught you well in counter-intel. I have your medical records, though”. He reached into the bedside drawer and retrieved a condom. “Put in on me, Ela”. She was too horny to stop and ask about the records, or stop at all, for that matter. She stripped the wrapper off and rolled the rubber over Doc’s throbbing penis. Doc smiled again. “That’s a good girl”. Ela’s body felt like it was melting into the bedsheets. Good girl. Good girl. Good girl. She let it echo in her head as Doc grabbed her by her shoulder, rolled her over with ease, and pushed the hem of her dress over her ass. That ass. He stared at the alabaster, pert, tight ass on her. And then he slapped it. Hard. Ela screamed, pain and pleasure mixing in a way they hadn’t before. She panted into the sheets.

“Again” She moaned, closing her eyes in preparation for another blow

“‘Please, Doctor’” Doc corrected, surveying the reddening handprint on her right asscheek.

“Hit my ass again please, Doctor” Ela huffed. Doc complied, striking right on top of the handprint. Ela sent another scream through the next five walls, and humped downward into the bed, rubbing her clitoris against the sheets. “Ffuck me hhhard please, Doctor” Ela groaned

“Patience” Doc chided, resting his covered cock between her globes, and relaxing his torso on top of hers, embracing her from behind and pushing her into the bed. He kissed the back of her neck, tossing her hair to the side and working around her black choker. Ela wiggled her hips, rubbing her ass against his cock. 

“Please, Doctor”. Doc hushed her, and pulled the top of her dress down, past her breasts. His hands cupped her tits, and softly squeezed them, pinching her nipples between his knuckles. His left hand dragged down her chest, wedged between her dress and the bed. It paused for a second on her tummy, rubbed it through the black silk, and continued down to her panties. It pushed them aside for the second time, and rubbed small circles around her clit, each circle accompanied by a kiss, lick, or nibble on her neck. “Please, Doctor” Ela moaned again, and Doc placed two fingers on either side of her clit, rolling it inside the hood. He picked up the pace, and Ela started to softly hump his hand. “Oh fuck, keep going” Ela felt Doc’s hand pull away sharply. She heard a whip of the air as he brought his left hand down on her unblemished asscheek. She tried to muffle the scream in the mattress. “Please, Doctor. Please, Doctor” Ela gasped, girding her thighs together, the spank stinging her ass. She clenched her asscheeks around Doc’s cock. Doc resumed his position, lying on top of Ela. His left hand went back under her, and slid along her labia, rubbing her again. “Please, Doctor, I’m getting close”. He rubbed faster. Ela started mewling into the sheets, and Doc pulled his hips back and pushed Ela’s hips up with his hand. Her ass lost its grip on his shaft, and he pulled out her crack, parted her labia with his hand, and thrusted into her pussy as Ela fell into the first orgasm of the night. He felt her convulse around him as he thrusted down, forcing her hips deep into the bed, stretching her out from behind. His hips smacked against her marked ass, cushioned by the thick globes hanging off of the decorated GROM operator. Ela felt his thick head plowing the walls of her pussy every time Doc pulled back, before he dropped his body weight back into Ela. His upward curve grinded the empty sperm-catching tip of the condom into the floor of her hole. She noticed that she was getting fucked towards the headboard of the bed, and dug her hands into the sheets to hold herself in place. This only pushed her further down on Doc’s cock as he slammed it deeper into her. She focused on the thrusting meat, trying to grip on to it with her walls. She tensed her muscles, and Doc moaned, feeling her tighten around him. A drop of sweat fell on to her back, and a warm hand pushed down on her shoulder, pushing her even deeper. Ela rolled her hips under Doc’s thrusting, meeting his hips and making his thrusts even faster. She ground her nipples and clit against the sheets, trying to eke out as much stimulation as possible, racing to her next orgasm. Doc’s pace was relentless, brutal even. If it hadn’t been for Ela’s soft ass, he’d be slamming his hip bones into hers. The slick from her pussy stained the sheets, and was spread over her thighs and ass. The ring of her asshole had been lubricated by the wetness pouring out of her dripping cunt. Ela felt her slippery asshole flex as she squeezed down on Doc’s cock, and she thought of her ass as she tipped over the edge a second time. The second peak left her shuddering, before she collapsed into the mattress. Doc slowed down, and started to lay long, slow strokes into her. 

“Ela, I’m close” Doc said. He was sweating, but calm, composed. Ela, by contrast, was sucking in short breaths

“Cum in me please, Doctor” Ela said, eyes closed, floating on a cloud of post-orgasmic bliss. Doc reached an arm under her chest, and rested his hand on her neck. Squeezing gently, he picked up the pace in waves, speeding up, slowing down. Edging himself. Using her entire body, her entire personhood, as his personal fucksleeve. Pressed into a cage of muscle and mattress, all Ela could do was let herself go limp, feeling the man use her. One of the waves of quick thrusts didn’t stop. He gripped her more tightly, and let out a soft grunt, before an even softer whimper. Ela clamped down as she felt the tip of the condom grow hot with his seed. He dug his face into the crook of her neck, rubbing his stubble against her soft skin, and moaned into the sheets.

Another pause. The sound of breathing filled the room, their bodies rising and falling against each other. Feeling each other’s hearts race through the blood-rushed organs mated together between them. The pounding in Doc’s ears died with his erection, his softening, sensitive cock falling out of Ela’s pussy and resting between her thighs. Ela opened her eyes, and turned to see Doc’s face, still tucked next to hers. She kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, doctor”

  
  


Ela returned from the bathroom, wearing just her black panties and stockings. She looked at her dress and coat, strewn on the ground. She looked sheepishly over to Doc. 

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Doc motioned to a spot beside him on the bed. She pulled the blanket up to just under her breasts, leaving them exposed. She pulled the pack of Newports from her purse and started to light one.

“Um, Ela, I don’t smoke”

“Why are you in a smoking room then?”

“Harry’s a cheap bastard. Could you put that out?”

“I need one before bed.” She reached under the sheet, wrapping her hand around his semi-flaccid cock. Her hand was still warm, washed only moments ago. “I can make it up to you.” She stroked him gently, the spit and cum that once coated his shaft gone. She exhaled smoke, withdrew her hand from the sheets, and spat in it a few times. Ashing her cig with one hand, she reached back under and wrapped her thin fingers around Doc. He’d gotten harder, and bigger, while she’d been getting her hand wet. She gave long, slow strokes, slowly pumping Doc up to size, and ripping on the dart just enough to keep it lit, ashing it into an ashtray on the bedside table. When he was at mostly full mast, she started to twist her hand. Doc lay back, watching Ela’s breasts rise and fall as she inhaled sharply, and slowly let the smoke roll from her mouth. Ela pinched the blanket, holding her smoldering cigarette while she tossed the blanket aside, giving herself more room to work. She cuddled up closer to Doc, and started stroking as fast as she could. She took a drag and watched the ember at the end of the cigarette creep all the way to the filter. She tossed the butt in the ashtray, as Doc reached for a towel that was by the side of the bed. Ela pushed it away, and bent her head over Doc’s cock, kissing the very tip and pumping his cum into her mouth. She swallowed, and looked back over to Doc, smiled, and curled up next to him.

The fog had been light that morning, and the sun shined through the window of the hotel room. Ela reached out for Doc, and pawed at an empty bed. She opened her eyes to see him latching his suitcase, fully dressed. 

“Where you going in such a hurry?” Ela asked groggily. Doc turned around and tossed a thick stack of papers on the bed next to her.

“Read and sign those. Call the number on the last page, and Harry will give you more instructions”

“The fuck? I came here to have my kidneys tickled, not stolen”. Doc started to say something, then shook his head and walked to the door.

“Checkout’s at 11:00. Don’t make my boss pay for another day of this room.” Doc slammed the door behind him. Ela looked down. Asshole. Doctors think they’re such hot shit don’t they? She read along the first page of the document. Something something top secret something something Rainbow something something counter-terrorism. Oh shit. OH SHIT.


	3. Epilouge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little epilouge, after Ela gets that paperwork in

The examination room was cold, and Ela sat on the paper covering the examination bed, bunched up and staring at her phone. The door creaked open and a doctor walked in. Ela didn’t look up from her phone. Chewing a glob of nicotine gum, she spoke English, Rainbow 6’s official language:

“Can we make this quick? I have time trials next.”

“Mais oui, Mademoiselle Bosak” Her eyes shot up. Come the fuck on. “Sorry,” Doc said in English, “Harry can only afford one Doctor”.

“Harry?”

“Don’t worry about it. Anyway, as I was trying to say, time trials? In those?” He gestured to her clothes. A hoodie and tight-fitting elastic pants.

“This is my field gear”

“Mmm-hmmm” Doc placed a tray of syringes and instruments next to Ela. “Jacket off, please”

“Oui, Docteur” Ela said, smirking at Doc. She pulled off the hoodie, revealing a tank top beneath it. Doc placed a cuff around Ela’s arm and pumped it up. He scribbled into a notepad, and deflated the cuff.

“You’re going to need to stop smoking, it’s spiking your blood pressure” Ela rolled her eyes, and opened her mouth to display the wad of gum.

“Aaaaaaah. It’s a process, Doc”

“That’s the least appetizing thing I’ve ever seen, Mademoiselle Bosak.”

“You’ve seen my asshole”

“I said least, not most” He smiled at her, and rammed a needle into her arm.

“Fuck, watch it asshole”

“Mademoiselle, you shoot people for a living. It’s a tiny needle”

“I just....Don’t like them”

“Well, you’re not going to like where this is going. Take the top off.” Ela pulled off the tank, leaving her in just her pants and a sports bra. Doc pressed a stethoscope into her skin, making her shiver. “Breathe in, slowly” Ela complied. Doc moved the stethoscope around her chest, and to her stomach. He jotted down some more notes. “If you don’t like needles, you’re not going to like what’s next” he muttered.

“What?”

“Cardial nanobot injection”

“WHAT”

“Yeah it’s pretty non standard. That’s the reason they have me do these exams” Doc took the cap off a long needle, and pinched the skin between two ribs on Ela’s left breast, just above the hem of the elastic bra. “You might want to take a deep breath.” She sucked in some air, before Doc sunk the needle into her heart. She could feel the trickle of nanobot-suspending fluid inside her heart. It burned. She whimpered. 

“Fuck”

“I’m sorry, Ela. Mine hurt a great deal as well”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, let’s get this over with”

“Ok, I need you to remove your bra” 

“What?”

“Cancer”

“Pretty sure you didn’t feel any lumps last time”

“I can’t write that in my report, Ela. Take the brassiere off. Unless you would like a different doctor, in which case there is one about thirty minutes-”

“No, no, go ahead” Ela smiled at Doc “be my guest”. She pulled her bra off, letting her tits smack against her chest as she let them fall free. Doc reached out with gloved hands, and felt for lumps. “You do this for all the women on the team?” Ela asked.

“Yes, actually” Ela chuckled at that, causing her left breast to shake in Doc’s hands.

“Tell me Doc, who has your favorites?” Doc was silent. He wasn’t going to even respond to this one. “Was it Caviera, with her big brazillian boobs, Doc? Was it Mira’s mommy milkers? Maybe Hibana’s little bug bites?”

“Ela, please let my only breach of professionalism be that night two weeks ago”

“You’re no fun”

“Being a doctor for a counter-terrorist organization isn’t supposed to be fun, Ela.” Doc finished checking Ela’s breasts. “Ok, one last injection and you’re free to go” Ela relaxed a little. “Pull down your pants please” Ela immediately tensed back up. “The injection goes into your buttocks” Doc explained, uncapping the last needle. Ela stood up, turned around, and looked back at Doc. Doc looked at her, and gestured for her to drop her pants. She unbuckled her belt and slid the tight-fitting elastic down her legs, bending over as she did so, revealing her bare asshole and pussy. 

“Panties bunch up” Ela explained. Doc nodded, rubbed an alcohol pad on a section of her ass, and prepared the needle. Ela felt the pinch, and got ready for the pinprick, and gasped as she instead felt a warm, wet tongue push inside her ass. She bent further over the table, letting Doc deeper, before she felt him slide the needle into her asscheek. She yelped, and tightened down on Doc’s tongue as he slid it out of her tight little hole.

“Pull your leggings up, Bosak. They’re waiting for you in time trials.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went on a backpacking trip and had a lot of time to write this one longhand, but definitely rushed writing the sex because I have a tendency to let things sit around unfinished if I can't roll through them in a few days. Longest one yet though, definitely trying to up my endurance in writing over time to at least 10,000 words.


End file.
